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It is a beautiful party, the sounds of laughter and polite conversation carrying on the night air. Birds of every shade and size sing prettily from gilded cages hanging from the ceiling, dozens upon dozens, in an enchanting display. In their midst spring flowers and fine artistry from all over the kingdom. Ophelia is the center of the party, shining as bright as any flame, as she admires her work. She is beautiful, the very picture of perfection and the envy of every woman in the room. It is clear to her that no one could have hosted a more splendid party.
The cages all seem to open at once -- the birds taking to the air as their beautiful songs turn into something more...fearsome. No one in the party seems to notice, except for Ophelia, who turns her gaze up to find the birds are not fleeing at all but instead seem to be circling like vultures. They swoop and soar on the winds, now blowing much more fiercely. The decorations are being pulled down by the force of it, the party starting to crash down around her but still -- no one seems to notice. The party-goers keep laughing and talking, undeterred by anything happening around them.
Without warning, with the decorations crashing down around them, the birds swoop down in a fury of feathers, dozens of talons outstretched to rip and tear at Ophelia. Their sharp claws rip and tear into her skin, her hair, and her dress. She screams for help, reaching for the sky, but it seems that the attendees of her splendid soiree are still engrossed in their conversations. Under the weight of the feathered beasts, Ophelia sinks to the floor. Her hands flail as she seeks a way out, dragging herself across the floor to the edge of the circle where everyone else seems to be standing. She looks up and through the cacophony of fluttering wings and screeches, she sees Evangelina of Dimitrou.
Ophelia reaches forward, grabbing the hem of the woman’s dress. It is only then that Evangelina looks down in confusion, but not...not concern. It is as if she is seeing Ophelia for the first time, wondering why and how the woman has gotten there. But before the Lady can reach down to help, another woman appears and stills her arm. The blonde is ethereal in white, gold jewelry kissing every inch of available skin. Recognition flares in Ophelia’s mind as Hera glares down her nose at the fallen Condos, her face tight with displeasure.
“Leave my chosen alone.” The goddess of marriage says slowly, every word drawn from her lips sharp. “This is your only warning, child.”
And then the birds swarm tighter, their beaks and talons going right for the young woman’s eyes as Hera leads Evangelina away.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It is a beautiful party, the sounds of laughter and polite conversation carrying on the night air. Birds of every shade and size sing prettily from gilded cages hanging from the ceiling, dozens upon dozens, in an enchanting display. In their midst spring flowers and fine artistry from all over the kingdom. Ophelia is the center of the party, shining as bright as any flame, as she admires her work. She is beautiful, the very picture of perfection and the envy of every woman in the room. It is clear to her that no one could have hosted a more splendid party.
The cages all seem to open at once -- the birds taking to the air as their beautiful songs turn into something more...fearsome. No one in the party seems to notice, except for Ophelia, who turns her gaze up to find the birds are not fleeing at all but instead seem to be circling like vultures. They swoop and soar on the winds, now blowing much more fiercely. The decorations are being pulled down by the force of it, the party starting to crash down around her but still -- no one seems to notice. The party-goers keep laughing and talking, undeterred by anything happening around them.
Without warning, with the decorations crashing down around them, the birds swoop down in a fury of feathers, dozens of talons outstretched to rip and tear at Ophelia. Their sharp claws rip and tear into her skin, her hair, and her dress. She screams for help, reaching for the sky, but it seems that the attendees of her splendid soiree are still engrossed in their conversations. Under the weight of the feathered beasts, Ophelia sinks to the floor. Her hands flail as she seeks a way out, dragging herself across the floor to the edge of the circle where everyone else seems to be standing. She looks up and through the cacophony of fluttering wings and screeches, she sees Evangelina of Dimitrou.
Ophelia reaches forward, grabbing the hem of the woman’s dress. It is only then that Evangelina looks down in confusion, but not...not concern. It is as if she is seeing Ophelia for the first time, wondering why and how the woman has gotten there. But before the Lady can reach down to help, another woman appears and stills her arm. The blonde is ethereal in white, gold jewelry kissing every inch of available skin. Recognition flares in Ophelia’s mind as Hera glares down her nose at the fallen Condos, her face tight with displeasure.
“Leave my chosen alone.” The goddess of marriage says slowly, every word drawn from her lips sharp. “This is your only warning, child.”
And then the birds swarm tighter, their beaks and talons going right for the young woman’s eyes as Hera leads Evangelina away.
It is a beautiful party, the sounds of laughter and polite conversation carrying on the night air. Birds of every shade and size sing prettily from gilded cages hanging from the ceiling, dozens upon dozens, in an enchanting display. In their midst spring flowers and fine artistry from all over the kingdom. Ophelia is the center of the party, shining as bright as any flame, as she admires her work. She is beautiful, the very picture of perfection and the envy of every woman in the room. It is clear to her that no one could have hosted a more splendid party.
The cages all seem to open at once -- the birds taking to the air as their beautiful songs turn into something more...fearsome. No one in the party seems to notice, except for Ophelia, who turns her gaze up to find the birds are not fleeing at all but instead seem to be circling like vultures. They swoop and soar on the winds, now blowing much more fiercely. The decorations are being pulled down by the force of it, the party starting to crash down around her but still -- no one seems to notice. The party-goers keep laughing and talking, undeterred by anything happening around them.
Without warning, with the decorations crashing down around them, the birds swoop down in a fury of feathers, dozens of talons outstretched to rip and tear at Ophelia. Their sharp claws rip and tear into her skin, her hair, and her dress. She screams for help, reaching for the sky, but it seems that the attendees of her splendid soiree are still engrossed in their conversations. Under the weight of the feathered beasts, Ophelia sinks to the floor. Her hands flail as she seeks a way out, dragging herself across the floor to the edge of the circle where everyone else seems to be standing. She looks up and through the cacophony of fluttering wings and screeches, she sees Evangelina of Dimitrou.
Ophelia reaches forward, grabbing the hem of the woman’s dress. It is only then that Evangelina looks down in confusion, but not...not concern. It is as if she is seeing Ophelia for the first time, wondering why and how the woman has gotten there. But before the Lady can reach down to help, another woman appears and stills her arm. The blonde is ethereal in white, gold jewelry kissing every inch of available skin. Recognition flares in Ophelia’s mind as Hera glares down her nose at the fallen Condos, her face tight with displeasure.
“Leave my chosen alone.” The goddess of marriage says slowly, every word drawn from her lips sharp. “This is your only warning, child.”
And then the birds swarm tighter, their beaks and talons going right for the young woman’s eyes as Hera leads Evangelina away.
It was to a piercing, blood-curdling scream that she awoke, realizing only moments later that the cry of agony was her own. Slowly it quietened into a pitiful whimper. Her body trembled from top to bottom, a cold sweat plastering her thin shift to her slender form.
She gasped as the door flew open, her arms instinctively flying out to protect herself from any danger that might lurk at the threshold. But it was only a guard who had entered. His longsword was drawn and as he stepped into the room he wasted no time in beginning his search for what had startled the Condos Rose. "Lady Ophelia, what is it?" he asked, sweeping the room for a second time with his eyes. Finding nothing amiss, he settled a confused gaze upon the Lady, who at first could only stare at the wall in terror and confusion. After several attempts, she managed to force out a few words, though her cadence was strange and each syllable came with a tremor. "Nothing of this world...please leave me...leave me now..."
The guard shot her a quizzical look, but obeyed nevertheless, reminding her that she need only call out if she felt she were in danger. Oh, she was most definitely in danger, but not the kind a guard could protect her from.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, she tore the blanket from her bed and leaped to her feet, shedding her shift and making a thorough examination of her body. There were no marks, no visible signs of Hera's wrath. It had been a dream, then, yet more than a dream. A warning. But why? She had been entirely earnest in her claim that Lord Gavriil was a friend and nothing more. She sought not to depose Hera's chosen, could the Goddess not see that?
Falling immediately to her knees, she allowed the tears to fall freely. What transpired here, now, was between her and the Great Goddess. "@hera, I understand this not," she whispered tentatively. "I seek not to depose the Lady Evangelina. Have I not prayed to you enough? Have I perhaps not given you the opportunity to know me? If so, I offer my sincerest apologies. But the fact is that I would never come between a man and his wife," she took a shaky breath, clasping her hands tightly under her chin. "There was a time I might have hoped that Lord Gavriil would make me his bride, but no more. Now I seek only his friendship, and I shall be devastated if I cannot have that. I prithee, Great One, send me some sign that my friendship with Gavriil will not offend thee?" She took in a shaky breath, praying for good news but expecting bad. What if Hera did not believe her, though she spoke only the truth? What if it mattered not? Perhaps Hera would think the best way to deal with this situation was simply to keep all women away from Gavriil. "I would never so dishonour you by attempting to become the lover of another man's wife," she proclaimed in as strong and confident a voice as she could muster. "Please, I pray, have mercy on a poor, confused woman?"
How had she been expected to handle the situation, after all? She had done so with as much grace as she possibly could, given that Evangelina had done her very best to disconcert her. Ophelia had extended an earnest offer of a truce for the sake of Gavriil, but not even that had been accepted with pure intent. She had given up all romantic hopes for the man it was true, but she was not one to simply walk away from a friend. Would Hera have her do so, even knowing her intentions were pure? And if so, then why? She could not understand.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
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It was to a piercing, blood-curdling scream that she awoke, realizing only moments later that the cry of agony was her own. Slowly it quietened into a pitiful whimper. Her body trembled from top to bottom, a cold sweat plastering her thin shift to her slender form.
She gasped as the door flew open, her arms instinctively flying out to protect herself from any danger that might lurk at the threshold. But it was only a guard who had entered. His longsword was drawn and as he stepped into the room he wasted no time in beginning his search for what had startled the Condos Rose. "Lady Ophelia, what is it?" he asked, sweeping the room for a second time with his eyes. Finding nothing amiss, he settled a confused gaze upon the Lady, who at first could only stare at the wall in terror and confusion. After several attempts, she managed to force out a few words, though her cadence was strange and each syllable came with a tremor. "Nothing of this world...please leave me...leave me now..."
The guard shot her a quizzical look, but obeyed nevertheless, reminding her that she need only call out if she felt she were in danger. Oh, she was most definitely in danger, but not the kind a guard could protect her from.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, she tore the blanket from her bed and leaped to her feet, shedding her shift and making a thorough examination of her body. There were no marks, no visible signs of Hera's wrath. It had been a dream, then, yet more than a dream. A warning. But why? She had been entirely earnest in her claim that Lord Gavriil was a friend and nothing more. She sought not to depose Hera's chosen, could the Goddess not see that?
Falling immediately to her knees, she allowed the tears to fall freely. What transpired here, now, was between her and the Great Goddess. "@hera, I understand this not," she whispered tentatively. "I seek not to depose the Lady Evangelina. Have I not prayed to you enough? Have I perhaps not given you the opportunity to know me? If so, I offer my sincerest apologies. But the fact is that I would never come between a man and his wife," she took a shaky breath, clasping her hands tightly under her chin. "There was a time I might have hoped that Lord Gavriil would make me his bride, but no more. Now I seek only his friendship, and I shall be devastated if I cannot have that. I prithee, Great One, send me some sign that my friendship with Gavriil will not offend thee?" She took in a shaky breath, praying for good news but expecting bad. What if Hera did not believe her, though she spoke only the truth? What if it mattered not? Perhaps Hera would think the best way to deal with this situation was simply to keep all women away from Gavriil. "I would never so dishonour you by attempting to become the lover of another man's wife," she proclaimed in as strong and confident a voice as she could muster. "Please, I pray, have mercy on a poor, confused woman?"
How had she been expected to handle the situation, after all? She had done so with as much grace as she possibly could, given that Evangelina had done her very best to disconcert her. Ophelia had extended an earnest offer of a truce for the sake of Gavriil, but not even that had been accepted with pure intent. She had given up all romantic hopes for the man it was true, but she was not one to simply walk away from a friend. Would Hera have her do so, even knowing her intentions were pure? And if so, then why? She could not understand.
It was to a piercing, blood-curdling scream that she awoke, realizing only moments later that the cry of agony was her own. Slowly it quietened into a pitiful whimper. Her body trembled from top to bottom, a cold sweat plastering her thin shift to her slender form.
She gasped as the door flew open, her arms instinctively flying out to protect herself from any danger that might lurk at the threshold. But it was only a guard who had entered. His longsword was drawn and as he stepped into the room he wasted no time in beginning his search for what had startled the Condos Rose. "Lady Ophelia, what is it?" he asked, sweeping the room for a second time with his eyes. Finding nothing amiss, he settled a confused gaze upon the Lady, who at first could only stare at the wall in terror and confusion. After several attempts, she managed to force out a few words, though her cadence was strange and each syllable came with a tremor. "Nothing of this world...please leave me...leave me now..."
The guard shot her a quizzical look, but obeyed nevertheless, reminding her that she need only call out if she felt she were in danger. Oh, she was most definitely in danger, but not the kind a guard could protect her from.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, she tore the blanket from her bed and leaped to her feet, shedding her shift and making a thorough examination of her body. There were no marks, no visible signs of Hera's wrath. It had been a dream, then, yet more than a dream. A warning. But why? She had been entirely earnest in her claim that Lord Gavriil was a friend and nothing more. She sought not to depose Hera's chosen, could the Goddess not see that?
Falling immediately to her knees, she allowed the tears to fall freely. What transpired here, now, was between her and the Great Goddess. "@hera, I understand this not," she whispered tentatively. "I seek not to depose the Lady Evangelina. Have I not prayed to you enough? Have I perhaps not given you the opportunity to know me? If so, I offer my sincerest apologies. But the fact is that I would never come between a man and his wife," she took a shaky breath, clasping her hands tightly under her chin. "There was a time I might have hoped that Lord Gavriil would make me his bride, but no more. Now I seek only his friendship, and I shall be devastated if I cannot have that. I prithee, Great One, send me some sign that my friendship with Gavriil will not offend thee?" She took in a shaky breath, praying for good news but expecting bad. What if Hera did not believe her, though she spoke only the truth? What if it mattered not? Perhaps Hera would think the best way to deal with this situation was simply to keep all women away from Gavriil. "I would never so dishonour you by attempting to become the lover of another man's wife," she proclaimed in as strong and confident a voice as she could muster. "Please, I pray, have mercy on a poor, confused woman?"
How had she been expected to handle the situation, after all? She had done so with as much grace as she possibly could, given that Evangelina had done her very best to disconcert her. Ophelia had extended an earnest offer of a truce for the sake of Gavriil, but not even that had been accepted with pure intent. She had given up all romantic hopes for the man it was true, but she was not one to simply walk away from a friend. Would Hera have her do so, even knowing her intentions were pure? And if so, then why? She could not understand.
